Mornings With You
by cafffe
Summary: Craig and Tweek can't decide between frozen pancakes and omelets. The only way to resolving it is a food fight. : Craig/Tweek : slight language


Craig sat reclined back against the couch, one arm slung around the thin frame of Tweek, who sat comfortably beside him. "Well, Tweekers? Are you gonna open your gift or not?" The noir-haired male said as he eyed the colored box in his boyfriend's shaking hands. It was a medium-sized box that was enveloped in blue-and-white wrapping paper, with a bright, gold-colored ribbon atop the left corner with a small paper that read : _To: Tweekers - Love, Craig_. He even wrapped it himself, which would explain the half-assed crafting. The spastic blond nodded quickly. "Y - yeah, I will!" He responded, tracing his fingers over the folds of paper. He was silent for a moment, staring as the glimmering ribbon.

"C - Craig! What if I get a p - paper cut?" Tweek said as he rushed to draw his hands away from the package. Craig sighed lightly, all too used to the blond's paranoia, and pulled Tweek into his lap; arms wrapping around the petite frame in front of him, chin resting on Tweek's shoulder. "Relax, babe. Just open the gift." Craig told him, casually pecking cheek and placing his larger hands over the blond's, assisting him in ripping apart the single layer wrapping paper.

Before lifting the lid of the box, a sound stopped Tweek's hands. It made him flinch in Craig's lap, but he didn't scream. A low growling sound, from Craig's stomach. They were both silent for a moment. The blond was the first to break the silence. "H - hehe, we can eat breakfast first, C - Craig." He offered, twisting around slightly to peek over at his boyfriend with a small smile pulling at his lips. Craig couldn't help but smile back. "Alright." He agreed as he tucked his arms beneath Tweek and pulling himself to a stand; now carrying the other bridal style. A short trip was made to the kitchen, Craig still holding Tweek and Tweek still holding the unopened box.

"We c - can make omelets." Tweek suggested after being put down, placing the box on the kitchen counter and walking over to the refrigerator to yank open the door. To the blond, omelets sounded like a nice idea. They were simply to make ( even for Tweek ) and it was something he was craving. After moments of quick searching, he successfully retrieved a carton of eggs and small tub of butter. Both items were safely held in Tweek's hands as he turned from the fridge; however, seeing Craig suddenly looming over him, he shrieked and nearly dropped the ingredients. "_J - Jesus!"_

Craig quietly chuckled at the surprised response, it was only to be expected. "What about pancakes?" He was totally serious about it; Craig didn't joke about pancakes. He didn't want omelets. After speaking, he wrenched open the freezer door, which was right next to Tweek, so you can imagine his spastic reaction, and grabbed out the box of frozen pancakes. The noir-haired male closed the freezer door and held the cold box in front of Tweek's face. "We'll have pancakes." He said, not waiting for a response. Not as suggestion, but as a _statement_.

Tweek's lips formed into a small pout. "B - but Craig! We had p - pancakes yesterday.." He interjected, pushing the box away from his face to look at Craig, who was clearly unfazed by him. "Then we'll have pancakes again." Craig said with a small, amused grin, moving away from Tweek and to the toaster as he cracked open the box with one hand. Frozen pancakes were so much easier than omelets. All he wanted was to get back to the couch with Tweek; and eating something quick was the best way to do that, right? Right. Was it so wrong to just want your boyfriend of three years in your arms for Christmas? Craig didn't think so.

Tweek, after moving over to grab a bowl from the cabinet, cracked a single egg into the mixing bowl, then another egg went in, and into the trash went the shells. A look of amusement and determination was on his face. It was a hobby of Tweek's, to cook. That was a good thing, too, for both Craig and Tweek; especially since Craig didn't cook at all. Had it not been for the coffee addict, the bird-flipping male would have survived on frozen pancakes and instant noodles.

Craig was already finished with the process of adding pre-cooked pancakes into the four-slotted, metal toaster, he was now patientally waiting. And to kill the short period of time, he was digging around the fridge. When his hands emerged from the chilled area, there was a bottle of syrup, whip cream, and chocolate sauce being held. All of the sweet items were all in Craig's grasp as he found picked up the container of sugar from a cabinet, along with a plate. Was he being healthy at all? Hell no. Neither was smoking, nor was lazing on the couch for hours on end; but Craig Tucker didn't give a shit. He was too cool for that.

Tweek looked up from his own cooking to glance at Craig. "You're g - going to get sick." He laughed softly as he removed a pan from one of the seemingly endless cabinets. It wasn't the first time Craig decided to devour _sugar_ for breakfast. Craig just shrugged and grinned softly again, resting against the counter as he waited for his pancakes to finish heating in the toaster. He always found it adorable when Tweek took grasp as the 'chef' in the kitchen. Tweek wasn't always the best cook, but Craig didn't mind. As long as it tasted decently well, he could have cared less. He watched as his little paranoid boyfriend worked around the stove area, he had yet to turn on the stove; the spastic twitch stared at it for a moment. Craig already knew.

"You can't make omelets with the stove off, Tweek."

"_Nghh _. ."

Tweek would never turn the stove on by himself; Craig always had to do it for him. The blond looked over at him with a small frown, eyes pleading. "C - Craig . . !" He began, one hand gripping at his green flannel shirt. "This means we'll have pancakes." Craig told him and turned around to see the toaster, where four pancakes stuck out from the top. Right before Craig could get the pancakes onto the plate, something stopped him. It felt like . . sand or something. Craig turned around to see Tweek holding the container of salt and a small, twitchy smile on his lips.

"Tweek," Craig started, as he calmly picked up the can of whip cream and shook it, approaching the suddenly _daring _Tweek. "You can't win this." He said while he used one hand to gently tilt up the blond's chin. With that being done, Craig placed the tip of the can to Tweek's lips and added pressure to the plastic nozzle. A massive flurry of whip cream was left on the his face, leaving the spazz frozen in place; a jittery laugh leaving his sweetened lips. _Obviously_, that meant a challenge. Tweek let the container of salt drop from his hands, wiping his eyes free of the creamy substance, and leaned close to Craig - or rather, Craig's blue shirt. The blond rubbed his face onto the cloth, cleaning his face; which just left his face ( and part of his hair ) a sticky mess. Smiling sheepishly, he leaned up to peck his boyfriend on the lips.

Craig stared down at the other, also examining his shirt, and licked his lips. Sweet. Without a word, he drew his face close to Tweek's to press his lips to the stick pair across from his own. He took that chance to grab the carton of eggs of the near-by counter, then pulled his lips away as he plucked a single egg out. Tweek noticed this, and could already predict the next move. He stood there and took it like a man, if that makes sense. Sure enough, an egg was cracked and smothered atop his soft, blond hair.

Tweek exhaled a shaky breath as the cold, gooey liquid dripped into his face. "_Agh! _Th - that's g - gross, Craig!" He whined as he picked up an egg from the carton as well. There was no way, despite his shaken personality, was he going to let Craig win like that. "I know," Craig replied, picking up the whip cream again. "Just like omelets."

* * *

Yeah, totally. Food fights make everything better.

( for those who review this story; pancakes or omelets? :D )

Merry Christmas, Poison! C:

South Park (c) Matt 'n Trey

**E D I T** ;; I've had a couple readers 'what was the gift', and since I didn't actually include that into the story, _I'll just let your imagination decide what it was. _C:


End file.
